


Fly high, for this is me, letting you go...

by TocaMorirLento



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Confessions, F/F, Falling In Love, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Letters, Locked up, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Macarena Ferreiro - Freeform, Memories, Moving On, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Build, Soft Zulema Zahir, The ending we wanted, Vis a Vis: El oasis, Zulema Zahir - Freeform, Zurena, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26858248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TocaMorirLento/pseuds/TocaMorirLento
Summary: This is a try to give Zulema a proper farewell.Maca tries to let go of her past in order to finally move on with her life. On her journey she finds a letter that is adressed at her.Zulema‘s try to explain herself, her actions and everything that she didn‘t dare to explore is written down on 4 pages, filled with her own truths and hurt.This is a final goodbye.❤️
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 23
Kudos: 44





	1. To new beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Slow song- John Vincent III
> 
> The first chapter is a little bumpy as it was written at last.  
> If you want you can skip this chapter and go right to the second one which will start with the letter.  
> There is a happy ending to this story though. At least I would consider it one.  
> So enjoy the ride and prepare some hankerchiefs.  
> Also sorry for any grammar mistakes etc English isn‘t my native language.

The air was crispy on this cool fall day that was just on the verge of changeing into winter. Macarena was sitting in her car, the door open waiting for her to leave the warmth of the car. But she wasn’t ready to take this step just yet.

Above her the sky was mirroring her emotions, hanging low over her head. Gloomy grey colored clouds were lingering in the sky. Tinting everything in an unpleseant greyish mass. A color that reminded her of the porridge like mush they used to serve them in prison.

She was still sitting in the car when she turned her head upwards towards the clouds. The wind hitting her through the open car door, makeing her tightening the jacket around her figure to keep out the cold.  
It caused her to release small clouds which eventually faded away into the day. She was shivering a little thus rubbed her hands together to warm them.

It will start raining soon.   
She thought frowning before she decided to finally go. Now or never.

By now months had past since Maca had been back at the lake. Back to the place the two once spend their life together.

In fact, this very place marked the beginning of a peculiar journey they had once started together and later remained as a reminder of their lost battles.

A Union for the greater good in order to end their endless boredom they started to encounter in an fairly ordinary life after prison. 

It was meant to be a new beginning for them. A new and better chapter of their lifes. Ultimatly, it ended with the loss of one. A life, long over by now.  
Just another small chapter in the world’s history doomed to be forgotten. 

Tired, Macarena shoke her head to wipe that thought off her mind. Then she turned off the engine of her car and stepped outside into the cold air. Her feet makeing a scrunshy noise on the gravel beneath her feet. A sound, like an embrace from a long lost friend. She was home at last.

While stretching her sore limbs from the car ride she took the opportunity to let her eyes roam around the familiar perimeters. Already, feeling some sort of calmness in the familiar surroundings. 

The round lake with it’s sandy shore and the tall bony trees lining it’s outskirts. And on the far right. In a little nook, safe from unwanted eyes, they had parked the Caravan.

She sighed, eventually, makeing her way over there. Yet coming to a halt cerca 7 meters away. Keeping her distance at first. She was hesitant.

Although, months had gone by their Caravan stood steady in it’s place. Unmoveable. Resisstant. Loaly, hiding away their secrets within, keeping them safe. Paitently, awaiting for their return in silence. 

A return that never came. 

Sure, the van was dirtier than it had been months ago but still, it was in a fairly good shape. Hesitantly, she closed the distance between her and the caravan in which she once shared her life with Zulema. Two whole years filled with absurd adventures, heists and a normal domestic lifestyle neither one could have imagined in their wildest dreams.

The reason for Macas return was obvious. Gather their stuff, check this chapter of her past from her list and then leave this part of her life together with the caravan to decay. 

It had taken her month of hard work to get to this point in her life. To be able to face reality if only for a short amount of time. At least she wasn’t in denial anymore. She had worked hard on getting back into a normal life. Now that she was on her own. She went to her meetings, tried her best to stay away from drugs as well as her criminal past. She even got a Job now. A shitty one at that but a locorative one nontheless. Her Psychologiest however had told her...“in order to move on you sooner or later have to come to terms with your trauma/past.“ Which she interpreted as inevitably erasing this part of her mind entirely.

So there she was. Now it was time to face the ugly truth. To end this chapter of her life for good and move on completely. 

Although, she had doubts if she’d be able to accomplish what she anticipated, life had pushed her onto this path, leading her here. If she’d be candid she wouldn’t have come here. This place was special to her and even through she hadn’t been there since the incident the mere feeling of it’s existence soothed her.   
After all, they had a complex connection, far to deep to simply move on after such a tragedy. 

These intrusive thoughts bothered her. Her intent was never to destroy all those wonderful little moments the two of them shared here nor the home itself. But her thoughts were fixated on it non the less. Creeping in every now and than as if the scorpions had poison her mind.

It annoyed her way more than she wanted to admit. Thus she tried to concentrade on opening the Caravan’s door. The padlock they had installed after one night when some men had appeared was rusted. She was fiddeling with it for a while. But was unable to open it. Frustrated and followed by her naggig doubts if it had been the right decision or not didn’t help much either.

Thus out of pure annoyance she kicked in the door. It didn‘t open up right away but her foot left an impressive hole. Big enough for her hand to reach through and open the door from the inside. Once open, she stepped inside. 

Macarenas eyes closed on their own as soon as she was hit with the familiar smell of home. A scent, compareable with Tabacoo and dust mixed with smoke from the bonfires they had done regularly infront of their trailer and a hint of Vanilla, found it’s way into Macas nose.

For a couple of seconds she simply breathed. Savoring, the smell she had feared to have lost forever. It triggered the one or the other memory to slither into her mind in a futile attempt.   
Forcing her eyes opened on an instant. Bringing, her back to the present moment. Reality. Being meet with the dust coated interior. There was no time to be sentimental. She knew if she’d allow those memories to come in she wouldn’t be able to get this done with.

It really was over huh?

She shoke her head once again removing these thoughts for now. Of course it was over. Zulema is dead she wasn’t naïv enough to be fooled by her grief. Not again. 

Without wasting more time she started rummaging through their stuff. Most of it was insignificant, some of it held a great importance.

Their clothes and costumes for their heists. Dishes, books some of their stash, decoration. She even found the polaroid camera Zule had given to her on their last christmas together. A rather sentimental gift from someone cagily. That’s why Maca had cherished it so much.

After around an hour, Maca had already packed away most of the stuff from the kitchen/livingroom area, into boxes she had then put into her cars trunk.   
Next up was their bed.

She was working through it rapidly as she didn’t want too spent to much time in there. Truth be told she wanted to leave as soon as possible. It was still a fresh wound. And staying in there was like someone put salt into a not fully healed wound.

Evertime she uncovered something personal it left her insides with a burning sensation. 

They haven‘t had much personal space. Mostly due to their living arrangements. But it was their little home and for a time that was enough. They were happy.

Their living circumstances however, resulted in them having to keep their personal belongings to a bare minimum.

Hence, their lifes were cramped up above their bed in two little sperate safes. One for each of them. Two stories of a whole.

She emptied her side of the safe first. There wasn’t much in there. It‘s contents mainly persisting of some letters from her family that she had received back when she was still in prison. As well as some pictures she had secretly taken of her room mate. Between them the polaroid picture they had taken on new years eve.

She had made a copy of it to keep it in her wallet. No one knew about it. It was her little secret. But now that she had the original back she’d keep that one close. 

She looked at it trying to burn every little detail of that photograph into her mind. An impossible mission as her vision was suddenly blurred by upcomming tears. She didn‘t have to put in the work to remember every detail as she already knew every little corner of that precious face.

Taken aback to a better time she put the picture into the pocket of her jacket. Blinked, away the tears that swelled up into her eyes and swallowed away her shivering breath.   
There was no time for hard feelings now. She had a task to acomplish. She was determind. To finally let her go. At least of this part. 

The Caravan.

She had a life now. A responsibility. A child. But she was lonely at last. Living a criminal life has taken everything and everyone from her. Eventually, her only remaining family too. 

For a moment Macarena stopped. Thinking about wether or not she should empty Zulemas safe as well.

Should she leave it alone? It was her personal space after all and dead or not people had the right of privacy. There was a reason they had purchased safes and not some boxes.

On that account, and not knowing the wereabouts of the key to the safe anyways she let it be. If she’d come across the key she might open it. But for now she’d leave it in peace.

So she worked through the rest of their stuff, sorted some out, threw some trash away, put others things into boxes. It was a lot to be honest and most of it was the stupid decoration she herself had demanded repeatedly.

She smiled as she remembered how they had fought over them. Zulema was angry with her for buying all this “unneccessary bullshit” as she had always said. Until one day Maca had decided to paint their ceiling. It was an impulsive decision as Zulema had not let her buy anything at all on the pretext of already owning enough hotchpotch. Maca got whiney resulting in a compromise. She could buy some paint. 

Content with that deciousion she purchased some blue, white and yellow paint. Already palnnkng everything out on her way home from the store so that when they‘d reach the Caravan she could immediatly start to paint. And she did she painted the sky. So that even through they lived in such a small space they were a little more free.

She told Zulema that the sky no longer had bars. Far from it. Now, they had the whole wide world at their feet and when they are in their safe space in the Caravan. In their own little world they could reach the sky if only they wanted to. Nothing would ever stop them from living their life to the fullest anymore.

Zule let out a mocking laugh back then but didn’t complain about it at all. Maca took it as an aproval. She would have never admitted it. But it was clear that deep down she liked the idea of what it resembled. 

Freedom.

A sad smile ran across her face as she remembered their stupid little fights oh how she had loved them.

Whilst shakeing that thought away too she put the last books and some of the decoration into a box. As she was caring it over to her car one of the box ripped open at the bottom. Spilling it’s insides onto the floor.

“Mierda. You gotta be kidding me. Joder!” she cursed before she carelessly threw the now empty box to the side. Quite annoyed by the hold up she quickly collected the pieces pilled at her feet.

When surprisedly she came across a particular book she stopped what she was doing.

Zulema had read a lot in their last couple of months together. One book specificaly she had read over and over again always jokeing that it was a book about their Lifes Story. 

At that time and place in life Maca had shrugged it of as one of her teases but now she wasn’t so sure anymore.

She grabbed the book that lay at her feet. “The Giving Tree” Maca read the title of the book. She frowned confust as she realized that it was indeed a childrens book.

The more she found the less she understood it seemed. Zulema remained a mystery to her no matter how good she thought she knew her. In life and death.

Maca picked the book up, more confuesed than before when the book rattled. She shoke it, and again, there was a little metallic sound. Barely audible. 

There must be something hidden inside that was for sure. But what could it be? Her hand roughly skipped through the pages, without much luck. Some notes were scribbled on the side and some sentences were highlighted but nothing out of the ordinary. 

She closed the book again. An repeated her movements. Eager to find out what’s hidden inside. Shakeing it once again, this time with more force.

Resulting in a bunch of pictures flying out of the book. Before she could get a hold of them they were flying all around. Taken up by the wind, which blew them away. 

Maca ran after them trying to collected the pictures. But the wind had blown them out of reach already.

No, no, no, no.

Her feet picked up pace. Determind to recover them. After a short chase around the beach the wind eventual died down, and gently let the pictures found their way to the floor, getting stuck in the sand. Where Maca picked them up. 

Once she had gathered all of them she wiped away the sand covering the pictures with the back of her hand. Then skipped through them. To her surprise they were snapshots of herself. Dated and with little notes at the bottom. She knit her brows, baffled by such a reveal.

The picture she was looking at was a Picture of her on New years eve.  
She was hanging up some fairy lights above their bed. The ones that would changed colors. First they’d be red then blue followed by yellow and back again. She was still wearing her Beanie and knit jacket. Her head was looking back over her shoulder. A bright smile occuping the entirey of her face. 

At the bottom a note.

31/12/2019  
Amuesed Rubita after I scared the living hell out of her, for transforming our home into a porn shack. Stupid fairy lights.

Maca remembered. It had been a cold winter night. Zulema had already put down all the christmas decoration inclueding the fairy lights. But Maca preffered having them up. They helped her sleep she said. That was a lie. She just enjoyed a little bit of color and at times when they listened to music and she had taken drugs it was freaking great to have these lights up. Makeing her feel all sorts of things. So she decided to put them up again. Zulema didn’t really care but wanted to annoy Maca anyway. So when it was dark outside but the caravan was lit up inside like a christmas tree Zule made her move.  
In the safety of the night she had tip toed up to the front window and violently knocked at the window screaming and shakeing the van. First Maca jumped, then she crashed down onto the floor takeing the fairy lights with her. Scarred shitless and bustling trying to free herself of the fairylights cable she was tangled in. Until she heard a hearty familiar laugh. Maca stood up annoed at first fairylights still all over her. Her back faceing Zulema, who was still laughing heartily. Maca decided it was the best to simply get going with her work, and not give Zule the satisfication of annoying her but couldn‘t resist grinning herself. In the end she turned her head around over her shoulder and joined the other one laughing.  
That‘s when she took the photo.  
„Puto elfo del infierno!“ She shouted loud enough for Zule to hear glowing like a christmas tree the fairy lights embracing her spirit.  
„I know you like it.“ was her only response.

Every time they did not face each other Zulema would slowly let down her walls. Resulting in moments like this. Maca hold them close as they were a rare sign.

I did. 

She quickly skipped through the remaining pictures before she returned to the other mystery.

Tuening the book around in her hands. Looking at it from every possible angle. Then she opened the book again. Examining it throughoutly. This time she bendbit a little too much so the binding seperated from the cover and in that little nook she found what she was searching for.

The key fell to the floor with a little thud. 

“You sneaky bitch.”, she mumbled in victory. 

She picked up the rest of the stuff on the floor and threw it into the trunk to the rest before she returned to the trailer. Takeing the key as a hint that she was, after all, suppossed to get everything out of the Caravan. 

With that invite she opened up Zulemas safe. It was filled to the brim with everything and nothing. With letters, hundreth of lose pages, more pictures, money, postcards of places from all around the world. It was chaotic just like she had been.   
She got most of the stuff out and put it away in another box careful not to pack it to full as she didn’t want anything to break, like it happened with the previous box. Those things were important to Zulema and thus they were for her. 

She had everything packed away ready to leave when she let her eyes wander over everything again, to make sure she didn’t miss anything, her eyes suddenly catched a white something. Looking closer there was something attached to the safes ceiling.

It was another letter. Taped to the top and out of sight. Confuest but more than eager to find out what it was she ripped it off.


	2. A storm is coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think that sometimes we love people so much that we have to be numb to it. Because if we actually felt how much we really love them, it would kill us. That doesn’t make you a bad person. It just means your heart’s too big.” - Fay, Riding in Cars with Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any grammar mistakes. English is not my native language.
> 
> Songs for this chapter  
> Origins- Belle mt  
> Breaking the rules - Jack Svoretti

When her slim fingers flipped the envelope around Macas eyes where met with a neatly written For You.  
She was baffled, in shock. What was this?  
Nothing made sense to her.  
So she sat down.

Outside the caravan the sun was already beginning to set and the world started to simmer.  
Anounceing a storm. 

Turning the letter over and over again in her hands she tried to make sense of it all while at the sane time building up enough courage to open it up.

It was thick. She suddenly realized. 

There must be around 5 pages in there.

The thing that surprised her the most was that for a person so quiet it seemed like there were too many words hidden in that little compact envelope. To many she thought, for her to comprehend all at once.

After quite some minutes of contemplateing what to do which felt like hours passing by she finally gave in. Opened the envelope and regrettet it instantly.

Inside, the envelope indeed held a hand full of handwritten pages. 

“Rubita.” Eyes scanning the first word. Repeatetly. “Rubita. Rubita. Rubita”

She wasn’t ready. Not now. Nor will she ever be.

She gave everything not to cry in order to make it possible for her to make out the words that where written so neatly in black ink on white paper. A mission in vain.

Outside the first raindrops meet the sand.  
A soothing sound. 

“Rubita,  
we walked together and apart in a marriage of courtesy and convenience not to close nor too far away from each other. It was your rule. No pets. No feelings attached. And for a time that was fine. But...

Now, I trust you to understand me.  
There is a thing called locus standi, which means the right to be heard. I ask you now to hear me out, without giveing reason. Just this once. Just listen.” 

She didn’t understand.

What was this all about. Is this some dumb joke, to drag her. To make her feel even worse after she left her to die on her own in the middle of the desert? After she had betrayed her? This felt wrong. So wrong.

While she had been touched a second ago by her sentiment, anger started to build up inside of her now. Pushing her emotions aside. This might be easier that initialy thought. So she continued reading. No tears to be seen.

The rain gained strength. Hitting the sand audibly now.

“Believe me when I say that this wasn‘t a new experiance for me.  
To be betrayed by someone you tried to confine in, to be left alone, to feel your surroundings grow big and wide filled with greater perhaps and maybes. Perhaps and maybes how I dispraise these two words. They‘re places of refuge for those out of touch with reality. Nothing but false dreams and illusions. The worst, I fell for them it seems.

Even through betrayal is one of the worst feelings, you did something worse. I deeply believe, though, that you didn’t meant to do it yet you did. You left.

Cause you’re an impulsive bitch and never really think things through. You never think about the consequences of your actions. It’s a little flaw of yours on a otherwise perfect being. 

This time though. This time was different, Rubia. 

It was you. It always has been you. And your betrayl... it doesn’t really matter now.  
To be honest it’s hard to feel disappointed in someone when what you expected from them in the first place turns out to be nothing but the whole truth.”

You’re impecable. Blameing everything on me. When you’re no longer there to stand up for yourself. 

With each sentence her anger found it’s way closer to the surface.

“But to me you weren‘t just someone whom randomly crossed my path. And thus your whistle-blow somehow, in some unrational way affected me afterall. 

Because you were more to me.

A friend if you will. But you didn’t hear that from me! If you tell anyone I’ll personally make sure to return from hell and snap this beautiful fragile neck of yours myself! You hear me?!”

“A friend“ 

she repeated droopy, as if she had just learned that word without completely grasping it‘s meaning. 

The weather outside had returned to a soothing drizzle.

A friend. 

She let it slip over her lips in a whisper giving it room to fill in the deafening silence inside the caravan, swallowing down her sobs.

“But that’s not the point at all. The bottom line is that by the time you read this I’ll be long gone and you’ll finally be free. 

As I have not come back home this time.”

But I have been free since the day I picked you up. Our paths had crossed again. That’s when I felt most alive. I was free. 

“The day I’ll leave this place no one will come to know about it.” That’s what I answered when they asked what we’d do on our first day out. Against all odds, someone did find out. 

On my release day you came. There you were a bit late but you were there nontheless. Picking me up from prison.

I could have forgiven you then if you had left me behind after your own release from prison. If you‘d forgotten me and started all over. But I can’t do that for you coming back. 

Against all my hopes though, you returning to me hasn‘t improved my life for the better. If anything it made it bearable.  
It made my life possible but yours impossible. You’re a fool for coming back. You should have stayed away. 

The pain I faced during my time in prison gave me passion for life. It fullfilled me. Once outside that feeling vanished. We had a feud and went our sepperate ways. Poof. Suddenly the thing I desired most wasn’t what it seemed to be at all. It got tenacious and tireing. No more crazy outbrakes,no more kidnappings, no more fights for fun, no nothing despite the same boring loop of wakeing up, eating, working and sleeping. Just like that, I was back in prison. The only differance this time was that I was locked up inside my own personal hell.  
Until, I started to believe in the possibility that you could bring me back into the world. I reached out to you one last time and surpriseingly enough you did accept my offer.

I was careful to never give away what that truely meant to me but that’s besides the point. You returning... doesn’t change anything in that matter. You’re still an imbecile for doing so.

For, at times it’s better too lose something than never having had it in the first place. And I wish that this one didn’t happen.

Before you returned to me you had a chance in life. What good did this path give to you?”

Brio.

“As a matter of fact, you didn’t like me. 

You never did.

And your return wasn’t out of compassion or anything similiar anyway. 

You know that. Deep down you know. You simply loved the way I made you feel. You loved the danger, the menace, the despair when something didn’t go as planned and it made the adrenalin run through your vains. Hate made the team work.”

Brio echoed through her mind. Mocking her. 

You’re right. You made me feel alive. At the beginning it was just that. I hated you passionately too but then things changed.

“But me?  
No, you could never really bring yourself to like me.  
You had every right not to.“

I learned to like your Psychpath ass. You were all I had left. Partly forced but later unwantedly wanted.

„For me it was different.

Before you decided to join me there was a hole in the middle of my chest that everything happy got swollowed by. Fatimas loss had changed me.

When you returned though you brought me back into the world and managed to closed that hole. It was the best thing anyone could have ever done for me. In a way you returned my purpose.”

Maca didn’t understand. The more she read the less became clear to her. Everthing was contradicting. First she pushed her away than came back only to tell her she‘s a fool for agreeing to her offer now?

What the fuck does she want. It’s not her fault that she came back with another offer. Ok I agreed to her offering. But truth is if she hadn’t reached out in the first place they’d probably both be alive now. But we were like a blackhole swallowing everything and each other within our reach. Unable to push each other away. 

“Everything was fine for a while.” 

Nothing is fine. Nothing ever was fine. She thought.  
Everything is confusing always has been. It seems there is no way out. 

She didn‘t understand this kind of rejection it hurted her.

“We did everything and nothing. We lived in the moment. Then sickness came and I hid it from you because if I would have told you it wouldn’t have been mine anymore would it?” 

You always had to be in charge. We could have beat it together and you knew it you fucking selfish bitch. You were scarred of losing control and showing your real you. Plain and without disguise!

“And with sickness there came amnesia. The one thing I could always rely on gave up on me. I started to forget little things at first. Names and hideing spots... inevitable you came behind it but never said anything. You knew something was off but still, you stayed silent. And for that I am greatful.”

I did. And I didn’t say anything because I was scared of the truth. 

“That was the moment I started to write down what we did each day. No matter how little happened. I made notes. Wherever we went. I wrote something down.  
Always on guard careful so you wouldn’t see. The game must had to go on. So I wrote down anything, really. No matter how ridiculous or boring it was and then at night when you were tight asleep I would read through the parts of my mind that had already vanquished throughout the day.”

I realized you became distant. Quiet and distant. I found your notes. Sometimes I woke up to you sitting there deep inside your own thoughts. Reading loose pages blankly staring ahead. I thought you were plotting another coup. when really you just wanted to remember as much as you could.

She was filled with regret.  
Angry at herself for giving in to her fear. For keeping silent.

“ You know, I haven‘t always been silent, I used to talk and talk and talk and wouldn‘t shut up for once. People hated me for that. It threw them off guard, I however found joy in that.”

You found pleasure in the little things. I mean we lived in a fucking caravan, when we could afford the world.  
I didn’t you know? I loved listening to your tales and all the bullshit that bubbled out of your mouth when you let down your walls. The teaseing, hell, even the fights. We never really fought though. We had our differances but our fights were just a game. We played pretend. You became quiet. We stopped playing.  
In the end your silence overtook us just like your sickness. We could have had it all. 

“ Yet in the last month my thoughts started to float away from my mind. I lost things I had carried around uñ there for years. Crazy Ideas for new heists... the days happenings, names and so much more, everything vanishing from my mind. Poco a poco. The annihiliateing thing was the inexorable, the unstoppable declineing. Leaving me powerless. There was nothing in my power I could have possibly done to change it. Nothing.

Inevitably, I started loseing control, over the one thing that never betrayed me. My mind. It had always been there. Steady, unmoveable the only constant in my life I could always rely on, entirely. 

It seemed to me like you started forgetting me as well. We became distant, to maintain what we had. Whatever the hell that was.

With every passing morning, that I left the caravan to witness the sunrise for the last time. Because who knew for sure when that last day would have come, I became a little lighter because that meant with every new day I got a little closer to those I‘ve lost.

At the same time though, I got heavier as well because that meant I got farther away from you too.

Rubita, I hope that you‘ll never admire someone as much and in the way I admired you because all it does is hurt. It hurts so much.”

I know. It‘s unfair when injustice is repayed with more injustice. You didn’t deserve this.

Taken aback by that confession Maca leaned back in her seat. Thinking.  
She needed a break before she could continue. Maca expected anger or asking for forgiveness maybe dragging her but not this. It was matter of factly a way to explain the plot holes. Always on point.

„I ran over my cowardice at full speed.  
I was able to admit it.  
To you.  
To myself.  
But I won’t do it again. And now it’s too late.  
You gotta move on.

I told you the truth.

That’s all you get. 

I’m not there anymore so I can’t really be emberrassed about all of this. Can I?”

We played pretend. I lov... liked you too you stupid asshole. I hated you. I hate you now Because you are right. You always have been. Even now.  
Maybe it’s true that you don’t know what you‘ve lost until you did lose it.  
I knew there was something more but neither one of us would have admitted that. It wasn’t common love, but only a few feet apart from that.  
Is there anything worse than being like us? Anything more disfunctional? More contradicting?

She continued, even through her vision was still blurry. Almost enableing her to make out her words. Her eyes burning.  
The rain falling.

“Some force of nature id connecting us. Probably too much and at times that hurts. Above all, when you realize that at some point in time you have to ultimately let go. 

I tried.

Letting go.  
I tried but with every stupid heist I came up with, I expanded the story.  
To make it last as long as somehow possible, as I was afraid of its ending.  
At last it’s clear to me, I lost this fight. 

Anyways, turns out that even all the money in the world couldn’t buy me the love and happiness I’ve hunted for, for all my life.

The thing is certain people are born into this life to conquer it on their own. Unfurtonately, I was one of them.  
In my lifetime I never depended on people. I was doing fine on my own.

Yet deep down I knew that I couldn’t let you leave that easily as that without fail signified that I would end up by myself. Seven days without liquid, 14 days without any kind of food isn‘t life threatening but absolute lonelieness is able to break any human being. That’s why I faltered to end this story. 

That‘s the paradox. I was wasn‘t born alone. I lived my life alone sure but I was never completely alone.  
Here I am though, standing on the edge of a cliff, by myself. And like this I will go. Leaving my companions behind.

At last, it made no differance. Did it? You had made up your mind.  
You wanted to leave.

If anything, it was my fault. It was me who was naïv enough to let the possibility of us staying together cross my mind in the first place.

At the beginning you joined for the adventure I could offer you, the adrenalin. But doesn‘t that imply going all in? If your in it, in search for the kick, ought you not be ready to endure it till the end not relinquish it half way? I was disappointed but not surprised. Simply naïv.

What I‘m meaning to say is, the more I lost myself in you, the less I understood about myself. It probably would have been the right choice. Letting you go right there and then. Yet I choose to keep the story going.”

Believe me I didn’t understand our relationship either but it was something more profound.

“And then before I knew what was going on I found myself thinking about all the things I did and all those I didn’t, all those I could have changed but never actually tried to. The mistakes and hurt I inflicted, everything, but what good did thinking ever gave to me?

I (lost) spend so much time on thinking myself out of my misery that I forgot to think myself into happiness just once.

Instead, I spend my days walking through the streets observing the people that crossed my way and kept wondering if they lived a life that they chose or if it was kismet.

After my release I didn’t have to think about it anymore as solace found me.  
I don’t regret a lot of things in my life, Rubia, but I do regret not being entirely honest with you. Not doing the things I wanted to out of pride.”

....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it:)  
> Chapter three will be tough.


	3. Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen…Nobody knows my sorrow.” - Zazu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter  
> Beyond Today - James Gillipie  
> Tranquilize - Finish Ticket
> 
> TW:  
> mention of selfharm and blood  
> (only vaguely mention)

“That night. The night that we did what we did because we wanted to. That night, our marriage didn’t work.  
I didn’t care - And neither did you.  
We blamed it on the shock, the guys, the drugs on everything but us. 

One canot explain how this mutal attraction towards each other occurs. It’s a mystery to mankind. You end up falling for life or someone. And you won’t make an inconsiderate decicion you’d think.  
But once you dared to crossed the line you’re just stirring towards the unavoidable and then you cannot stop. It strikes you. Truths will tell and vanquish what you so desperately tried to hide. You‘re fighting a looseing battle.

We both know that what we said afterwards was utter bullshit.  
Nevertheless, we kept on playing our game even after it was long over.

Let‘s face it we talked shit to hide how we really felt.

Like we were walking in place not daring to take the next step, arms outstreched only to keep our distance not to embrace, everything an unspoken rule dancing around the inevitable but ultimately crashing into the unavoidable. 

That night however. That night has neither a start nor an ending. It was a dangerous game we played not thinking about its repercussion. We started it before we knew it was happening and it ended with us falling. 

It’s the tragedy of a forbidden affair of two fighting hearts. You can’t love anything more than something that feels so wrong.

This night however, never happened.  
It never existsed. We made sure of that.  
And when you have nothing. You don‘t have to worry about it because you have nothing too lose at all. It‘s better like this.”

Yea that night. It changed everything. Did it not? It was chaos and hurt...desire, confuestion, intense. Filled with truths, lies, nothing and all of us. Then we wrote it off as something trivial.

We created a place that never existed. It was an inexistent place, a void and when we were inside, we didn’t exist either.  
Neither we nor our doings. 

“It wasn’t an insegnificant incident.  
It’s what we wanted to believe in.  
But it wasn’t. - Not to me at least.  
And even if you never mentioned it yourself I know that it had effected you in one way or another aswell.“

Of course you knew. A scoff escaped Maca in disbelieve.

“We could have lived in all sorts of alternate universes different from this one yet this one. This one is the one that happened. We can’t change that.  
You can’t rewrite the past.  
We didn’t need to.  
We played our game.”

Maca just read through it. Unable to fathom her feelings or anything else at all. She just sat there her tears uncontrollably rolling down her cheeks. Dripping on the black ink. Infesting the words with poisonous black streams. Zulemas words were heavily hanging in the air.

Outside it had gotten darker the sun was almost down so she stood up and put on the lights. Enableing her to continue reading.  
The sky was now crying with her hitting the windows in a steady pace.

“ In between what happened that night and what followed there was a significant incident that set the butterfly effect into motion. You surely remember.”

How couldn’t I?

“It was still early in the morning when I decided to take a shower. Little did I know that I’d get hit with one of these seizures of mine with full force.

I fell down in the shower and hit my head.

Unconciouss, but only for a couple of seconds. It must have been quite loud though because when I regained conciousness you were there, already by my side.

You were so worried that you had kicked in the fucking door. Puta we had no door for weeks because we had to stay low.  
You were there by my side ready to do the best you could to help me in some sort of way. Though there was nothing much you could do to be honest, still, you tried.

Meanwhile I lay there. Naked on the bathroom floor a memorable cut on my forhead from the fall. Head buzzing, and a little confuested by the sudden black out. All I felt in that mpment was the warm blood streaming down over my face, ruining your clothes. And then, there was another warmth. The heat of your body against my bare back. Radiating sanctuary. You had put something over the cut but it wouldn‘t stop bleeding.

You didn’t mind the still running water much less me barely covered in you lap ruining your clothes with a mixture of water and blood. You simply asked what the fuck was up. Sincerly worried.

I didn’t answer.

So you kept on pressing new washing cloths against the cut in vain trying to make it stop bleeding eventually. I didn‘t dare to move a lash.

Being embarressed that you witness it. More so, as I was resting on your lap stripped and fragile.”

You had bruises all over your body. As if you’d just been in a fight. There were the ones back from prison too. These wounds were blamishes on a otherwise perfect being. I didn’t ask about them either. Now, I wish I had. I wish I had done more.

“Shakeing but mostly hurt in my pride. I was feeble, if only for a trivial moment in time. I was exposed and with it my self inflicted lesions.

I couldn’t bring myself to meet your eyes. Not even for a second.

Weakness, for me, is something intolerable. Something forbidden. I stay true to that.

You however, already soaked, because the shower was still running, just got up and handed me a towel to cover myself up. You ask me again if I needed anything else. Still not dareing to ask about the bruises or anything else. Plainly, offerering your help. Earnestly. I told you to get my pills. That’s when you found out.”

I, not in the slightes, had been able to comprehend how deeply hurt you had been by then. You never talked to me. Never opend up. I had to piece together what you handed me. How was I ever suppossed to make it right in time, when you never gave me a chance to.

She remembered. She found the pills. Read the label. And as her eyes followed each letter over and over again her world started crumbeling. She didn’t know how to react. Wasn’t able to fathom what had been just revealed to her. She was hurt too. Not because Zulema didn’t tell her. She never did. But she felt left out either way. Zulema didn’t trust her enough to open up about this. It would have been a weakness for her and she understood that the raven haired woman couldn‘t show that.

Thinking back it was selfish. More than that. But she didn’t let her feelings show. It wasn’t her priority. She was there for her partner as good as she was capeable too.  
It was the least she could do. 

Macarena had to wait for a long time before Zulema eventually came out of the Bathroom. Somewhat different, calmer and more apathatic. Yet the complete opposing. 

The other womans body was trembeling as if she was still in shock. Maca gathered all her courage and embraced Zulema tightly. A gesture Zulema wouldn’t have allowed under normal circumstances, but for whatever reason she surrendered.

Her arms limply dangling by her side. Not returning the embrace, yet welcomeing it.  
Head resting on Macas shoulder.

Her figure was so small, somehow smaller than she used to be. Merely resting against Macas body.  
So small, Maca was able to rest her shin on top of her head. One hand cupping the back of her head the other resting on the other womans lower back supporting her stance. Both looking into the abyss.

*  
“It‘ll be over soon. It’ll be fine. You will b ...”, Maca said in a whisper, not trusting herself to let that last world slip through her lips. 

I couldn’t tell you because I did not know if it was the truth. I didn’t know.  
Maca thought distressed.

This wasn’t Zulema. This was a resigned fighter. Someone done fighting. 

And Maca didn’t like that thought either. 

I was wrong. You weren’t done. Not by a long shot. 

No. Zulema thought silently although Maca hadn‘t said it out loud. “This possibility didn‘t go by unexplored. You were about to gift it to me, this possibility of surviving but you snatched it away eventually as you want to leave.” 

Her mind was set.  
I won‘t be coming back this time  
* 

They stood like that in the middle of their Caravan.

Zulema covered by only her towel. The white of it a homage of an peace offering directed at Maca. The crimson red stains from her cut a foreshadowing of what was yet to come.

Maca’s clothes were ruined. Clinging to her skin like zulema. Firm as a rock. Keeping them both above water. Keeping them afloat. 

Neither one bothered.

And for a moment time stood still for them. The world had stopped rotating if only for an blink of an eye. It was enough for a reset.

“When I finally found the courage to leave the bathroom you were there and took me under your wing. 

I let you do it because I needed it at that time. To gain some much needed strength back. 

I wanted life to stop right there and then to stay in that moment forever. On halt. 

Maybe, just maybe that would have made the impropable relation between us possible.”

Yes, maybe staying in that moment wouldn’t have been too bad.  
From the wrong perspective failing can feel like ascending. We were falling towards our doom but at times during our heists and all it did feel like we were flying. 

It was reason enough for her so she didn’t push her away.  
She wanted to, badly, but she managed to resisted that urge.

Zule wanted to go undo everything and start anew but she didn’t dare to do that either. Out of caution or out of pride she did not know. And she didn’t need to find out as Maca made that step for her. She stepped back and Zulema felt the cold creeping in again.

That morning we talked like lost souls with each other. Everything we said remained in our non existing place. That way it never happened. We we’re safe.  
The next day we did what we did best. Ignoring what we didn’t want to be true. Everything went back to normal. As if nothing had ever happened.

It pained her to think about that. Their lost chances . 

At least we were alive.

When they parted Macarenas eyes took the scorpion in front of her in she looked at her and at the same time through her.  
She understood, no words were needed.

Zulema on the other hand only saw the path ahead of her, which was no path at all. Only redemption.

“ I wanted to take the chaos inside me, throw it back at you as a telling question. To make sense of it all.  
I didn’t. Out of disheartenment but mainly not to hurt my ego. I was ashamed.

Wanting to hate you the same way as I used to but failing miserably. It was to late. We had already crossed the line.

Truth be told, I never hated you in the first place. How could I when you were the first one who stepped up and talked back at me. Scarred shitless and as dumb as someone can be no doubt about that but with enough bravery to start a loseing battle. 

I marveled that.”

How broken can someone be?

“Ever since that moment. When you saw me so beaten up. I had no more reason to stay strong in front of you. I needn’t do that. For once in my life I allowed myself to let go.

I became duncish for a second. I got so beaten up, thrown down and kicked at over and over and over again that I wanted to rest just once.

My fight didn’t leave me. It never will. I just needed a break.

Therefor, I sunk down to the floor as your embrace had stopped supporting me. 

I didn’t cry then. How can you cry when there are no more tears left to cry.  
Someone once told me that when you cry too much you’ll end up useing them all. Leaving you behind without any more tears to shed. 

It’s true. You can cry your tears away. I spilled mine when I was still young. Only once in a while they came through more consendation water than anything.  
Only when you tried to kill me and my heart was about to burst did the last tears leave me. That was a long time ago and now they’re all gone. So even if there was a reason now to cry. No tears would come. They’re were non left. Leaving, only bitterly frustration and anger within. So I ended up doing what I did best. Being destructive.”

I’ve seen you cry once. When you were on the edge of life. When I had tried to rob you of your liberte. No tears of fear left you that day, but tears of betrayl. Not even after your daughter died. You never shed a tear. There were reasons. Plently of reasons. But you never did.

The storm outside was picking up speed. It was completly dark outside now even throught it hasn’t yet struck 6pm. The lake was uneasy, small waves were angryly washing up on the shore.  
And the trees on the clearing where beginning to totter.

“My fists found the ruff floor of our Caravan. And I hit it. Time and time again. Screaming.“

Maca remembered that scream. It was as if suddenly with this scream all the hurt within that broken soul had found it’s voice.

„Knuckles soaked in blood spilling droplets everywhere. 

I wanted to break every single bone in my hand. I wanted to punch a hole through the floor. Hell, all I wanted was to feel something, though, I felt nothing at all.

And you, you stood there oberserving me. Not makeing a move. 

You didn’t stop me, Maca. Why didn‘t you stop me?”

Because I didn’t know what the fuck I was suppossed to do. I didn’t know how to handle you. Or I did and didn’t know back then. I gave you time. But our time was running out. 

“My world became fast and loud for a moment sourrounding me completely. Punching without end.

Eventually, I was to selfish to break my hands over such a dumb reason... and unsatisfied with the pain I let it be. 

With only a few month left I wasn’t willing to spend them as a crippled senile shadow of myself.

Looking down at my trembling hand we only saw a bloody mess. I didn’t dare to move so you just lowered yourself down to rest next to me. We sat there in silence. In mids a pool of sweat and blood. Out of breath.”

Maca stopped once more. The outside world had brought her back to reality as a loud thunder had strucked. The storm swelling.

Our hearts sounded like a buzzing battlefield. One beating with rage one with sorrow. Indifferent but one. They felt as if they kept on failing in life. In the end it didn’t matter. The result was always the same. It was irrelevant. Because that moment never existed either.

“ We sat on the floor like hurt animals. Just waiting for our fate to hit. 

At least in that moment I was prepared to fall apart if it came to that. Luckily it didn‘t happen.”

That was it. Nothing else happened. They spent the rest of the day apart. Not daring to touch on such a fragile subject. Maca recalled. New years eve came and the butterfly effect picked up momentum.

Zulema had gone out. Somewhere into the city Maca guessed. She cared so much but not enough to follow her. She trusted her not to do something stupid, after what had happened in the morning. 

Only at nightfall it was that Zulema returned.  
Maca had been right she indeed had been in the city. Her guess was varified when she was greeted with a couple of bags filled with groceries.

Macarena wanted to help her unload but Zule spat at her, she shouldn’t baby her. So Maca left her alone. She didn’t want to fight.

Zule had unloaded the car on her own and then locked herself inside the Caravan. Time went by and from time to time Maca had caught her watching through the window. She didn’t look in order to leave Zule thinking she was sublte when really she wasn’t. By 23:30 Zule finally opened the door.  
Maca had been locked out all day.  
Spending her unwanted freetime outside sitting on their makeshift sofa infront of the caravan. Constantly switching between reading and smokeing. 

As the door opened Maca turned to look at Zulema, still smokeing her joint unimpressed with hodded eyes.

„So can I go in now and pee in a proper toilet?“, she asked more bored than annoyed.

Zule didn‘t answer only steped to the side in order to make room for her to pass through.

When Maca ran inside passing by, Zulema could smell her scent. Her eyes closed on their own account for a second. Breathing in and allowing her scent to seep in. A mixture of Vanilla and Muskat with a hint of weed trickeled into her nostrils. She smiled at that calmer now. The smell of Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry❤️  
> Next chapter: The Polaroid💔  
> Come say hi on Twitter: T_o_j_a


	4. The Polaroid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I have no control over which yesterdays I keep and which ones get deleted.(...)  
> My yesterdays are disappearing, and my tomorrows are uncertain, so what do I live for? I live for each day. I live in the moment.” - Still Alice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter  
> People need a melody - The head and the heart  
> Let it all go - Birdy and Rhodes
> 
> TW:  
> Mention of rape and selfharm  
> (even less than in the previous chapter)
> 
> A shorter chapter but the next ones will be longer again.
> 
> Also thank you for the feedback❤️

The storm was calming down and Maca was back to reading.

“Yes that day. I went out because I had the urge to stop the process of forgetting. Because if one day I would forget you, I’d never forgive myself.

Gifting you the polaroid was only part of the story, my way, to become immortal and in some way a symbol for how much you meant to me. I gave you that picture so that you could remember the little good I had left.

All these pictures would remind me, even if I wouldn’t remember you per se. I’d see the pictures and recall.

If it ever came to that you could show me the pictures and tell me the story of our life. I would be able to get to know me and you all over again.”

We never made it that far. And how can I tell you who you are when I barely even knew you. You never talked about stuff like that.

We took a picture and I locked it away.  
Remorse filled her thoughts.

“We took the picture together and despite my hope you never looked at it again. I don’t know what happened to it either.“

You don‘t?  
More a question than a statement.

„Maybe you do know more about it’s whereabouts. I couldn’t find it let alone remember were or if I was the one who put it away.”

I kept it all this time.  
She was guilty of robbing her memories.

Macas hand slipped inside her pocket instinctively, her fingers closed around the picture. Carefully, she took it out. Took it in. Caressed it with her fingertips. Following their akward smiles. Always shadowed by memories. 

She didn’t know that I had it. She couldn’t remember. Zulema was a lot of things even a thief but it was me. I am the one guilty of robbing her.

The storm slowed down further. Until only the rain remained. Once again acompining Maca’s tears with a monotonos ripple.

“Anyways that day we almost got raped and you fucking killed four people.

I was impressed. Shocked of what you had become. Of what I made you but impressed non the less. I asked you if you were fine and you said you were. Right away you saw the problem with that though. You had willingly taken the lifes of four people and you were okay with it. You slowly turned into the one you disprized the most. With every step you took that night you became more and more like me.

I realized than that you would do just fine on your own. You reached a point of no return.

Concurrently, we were running at full speed towards the gapeing abyss. Damned to collide and then we did.  
We crossed the line. Again.

The stress the emotions everything was to much and in searched for something to let go off of all of these feelings...well  
You lurred me into takeing drugs.”

And it was a great idea.  
A naughty smirk appearred on her face. When memories of that particular night made their way before her inner eye. It was only a vague curling of the corners of her lips but a smug smirk after all.

“One thing lead to the other. I could have told you then. Those three words. But I didn‘t because you could have reciprocared and that, I didn‘t dare to let happen. So they became words written in the wind. Once they left my mind they dissappeared into the open sky, taken away by the wind.  
By containing myself I made sure to keep the game going. 

At first, we half heartedly tried to fight against our urges until we finally Yield in to what we craved for, for so long.

That‘s one of the reasons I‘ll go. Staying would mean that our inebriant game wasn’t just that. A game. And I was dying on you anyways. It wouldn’t have been fair to admit to something like this only to vanish into nothingness a few weeks later. Causing more hurt than good. We would have lost no matter what and I couldn‘t let that happen to you.

If it became reality, when it was suppossed to stay a fantasy. It would end like passion always ends in havoc. It‘s better this way. Trust me.

We did what we did and it is one of the things I do not regret. I want you to know that. However, We had not considered how this feeling of mutal affection could change our game for the worst.

It does. Look what it made you do.

„That night I didn’t sleep. I slept rarely anyways but this time I stayed awake on purpose.

The average person falls asleep after seven minutes. I never did. But you’re not average either. That night it took you precicely 56 seconds to fall asleep. I counted.

By the way you sleep like a squirill. Mouth wide open and constantly makeing these weird noises. It made me laugh every time, even though it was a pretty unpleasant view.

Yet I couldn‘t allow myself to fall asleep because I had to take in as much as I could. In the time that I still had. Thus I would stay up all night long.

There was something ineffable beautiful in it that I want to preserve. At times I’d even snap a photo of you when you weren’t looking. In a non creepy way. I didn‘t stare. Starring is creepy...Anyways  
They were Snapshots of life.”

I did that too, you know Maca smiled exhausted. I also used to drive you crazy by following you with that cursed camera you gave to me. She liked those memories. Makeing a mental note to put the pictures and newspaper cut outs into a secure place. To honor their story.

“Nothing good is meant to stay. That is the sole truth. What we had was simply too good to be true. 

In fact you’ll come to a point in your life where you realize that all the good things have already happened to you. We used up our fair share of good and luck in our lifes. So this. Whatever it was. We just didn‘t deserve. There was no good left for us.

Knowing that made me feel things that are inexplicable to me. Alien. The one thing I know for certain though is that all of them hurt in a different way. And even though I shouldn‘t have. I bruised myself again.

I always did. You saw them. Now the time for explaination has come so listen closely because I won‘t repeat myself.  
I did it to regain some kind of upperhand over what I felt was running out of control. Whatever that was... (I’m starting to repeat myself aye Rubia...) I wasn’t able to make sense of it.”

Neither do I. I liked what we had. It wasn’t perfect but it was something.

“My fresh wounds and bruised. Scars from way back in time. You saw them. Todos.

In that moment you took care of me. Of all of them. Every single lesion that was painted on my skin. But what did it matter if that night did not exist? If you were to repudiate it? 

For you it took place in a non existing place. In a made up scenery. Doomed to be forgotten the instant it happened. 

Only I didn‘t want to forget.  
Yet it’s impossible to burn nothingness down to the ground. Is it not? You can’t burn what’s not there in the first place.”

I’m in the middle of nothing right now.  
Maca understood, this letter didn’t exist either. 

It was nothing and this nothing was all they ever dreamed of. Because a dream is only an alternative ending to a much bigger story.


	5. Last explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm sorry too, that I will never know him ... but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life." - Remus Lupin,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter  
> Happy Ending - Mika  
> Home - Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
> 
> TW:  
> explicit selfharm at the end of the chapter

“The next morning I was outside shooting my gun. You came to me with a cup of tea to tell me that I was clumbsy but that that was to be expacted...given that it was my “first time” with a woman. 

It wasn’t. 

And to get one thing straight. I wasn’t clumbsy! Obviously...  
It wasn’t my first time on drugs either.  
We talked shit again to conceal the truth.

You said I was clumbsy, and I told you sex between woman is overrated.

I wonder what were we so cautious about?  
What did we run from? The truths or it‘s consequences?  
There is no shame in admitting that we enjoyed it because that’s what we did.

It was sex, hella good sex at that and we enjoyed it. We had to let off steam and that’s exacly what we did. That was it. We liked it.

Sex wasn‘t the most important thing for me anyway. It contributed to the story, certainly, but love gives it the plot? We were fighting it.“

Was it really? Just that? Just sex? Maca had doubts. She reread that part.  
You never made clear what it really meant to you. Even then you couldn‘t bring yourself to write it down directly.

“Afterwards, we started talking or rather you did. Something did change after all.

I did not need to tell you about myself let alone had I to listen to your stories, but I did it anyways. You were there for me but at the same time out of reach. 

Every move I made towards you was subtle, I prospected for a minor indication from you, that the little things I did, meant something to you too. Only to be rejected time and time again.

You were standing steady, not to be moved.  
In denial.  
So was I.”

All was wrong. Is wrong. There is nil that can justify my motifs. At some point you didn’t even try to talk back. You simply stood there whenever I rejected your tries, closed your eyes, took a deep breath and shooke your head. I tried! The best I could to be there. But I wasn’t able to go all in. I cared. So much. Appereantly not enough to show you.

“I wanted to protect whatever it was that we had even if that meant protecting something that shall not exist.  
It made you happy ” 

Really, did it make me happy? I don’t know. I talked but what I would have wanted was to hear your lifes story.  
All of it.  
Without filter.  
The brutal truth.

“... and that was enough for me. It was one of my reasons why. Just like In The Giving Tree.”

A loud buzzing snapped Maca back into reality. Makeing her jump. It was her phone. She threw it a displeased gaze.  
“Saray” it said. She didn’t pick up as she wouldn’t be able to get out a sentence without her voice breaking. The phone kept ringing a few more times before it finally pinged again announcing an incomming text message. 

Where are you. R you ok? 

She wasn’t, and Saray didn’t need to know just yet.

I’m fine. I’ll come home soon.

Maca send back. Obviously lying. She was staying with Saray and her family for a few days so she could sort things out with the Caravan. 

*Ping* another message.

You sure?

Maca didn’t answer that one either. Instead she put her phone on mute and set it aside before continuing to read. Aware that Saray would most likely terrorize her with messages and calls. Worried about her wellbeing. At that moment though Macarena couldn’t care. She had to be alone. 

“I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know that what I’ll be doing is partly because of you but mostly for my own ego. I won‘t allow myself to die sinile in a hospital bed all ugly and weak.

The ending of our final coup is already written in stone. I‘m the author of this story and that, you have to accept. I won‘t apologize for what is right.

Don’t worry, Cariño. I thought about it. Throughoutly. And admist thinking I suddenly understood why I never truely loved life as such. I leaned towards loving life at the fullest every time I started to lose it. And now I see clearly. That the reason was you. Be it trying to kill each other or saveing each others life only to cause one another more pain in the end. We gave each other purpose.

Yet, I hope that one day you will have the privilage of doing something you don‘t understand for someone you like... a lot. Because I don’t understand myself just now.”

Oh but I already did. I came back to you. Twice. 

“Again you didn’t hear that from me! Keep my threat in mind.  
My time has come and when your time has come, you have to go. Those are the rules.

I’ll never write another word again, plan another heist or be at your side. I’ll be gone for good this time. No longer here. So let me rest. You must forget your past.“

I can forgive you but I can‘t ever forget you.

„I want you to be happy.  
More than I want happiness for myself.  
I tried that for a long time. Being happy.  
And look what it brought me... There’s been only suffering.

For all my life that I longed for freedom and happines I had the misfurtune to quite simply fall prey to the world. I was hunting for a miracle an happy end that was never there to begin with. Chasing a phantasma to elucidate what happened to me when I was a child. What bad could a child have possibly done to get hammered like that? To be condemned to live at the edge of society?

Some questions simply have no answer I guess.

In my search for it I have suffered much more, trying to find happiness, than I neccessarly needed to. And the few fortunate moments I have experianced in my life because of it haven‘t been nearly enough for that.

I could have lived my life differently. Hell, I wish I did. But I gave that chance away when I killed the man responsible for all the dolour that followed, in the wake of my fatal action. 

I gave up on that too.”

If only you would have told me earlier... you’d still be here. I might have stayed.  
You didn’t deserve what life spat at you. Life had given up on you but you yourself never gave up on life. Instead you made it your own. Look how far we’ve come and how far we could have made it if only we tried to.

“I don’t expect you to understand but I hope that the time of understanding will come for you at some point.  
Much less do I understand myself right now. Did I already say that? I can‘t recall. It doesn‘t matter.”

I don’t. I tried that but I don’t. You did. But you forgot.

“I’m aware that you can‘t take everything back that you said or did in the past. It’s a universally know fact that the past can‘t be changed. But still, I have faith, that there is always the possibility of building a stronger foundation. One that is able to burry the past.

I understand that what I did is unforgiveable yet the naïv hope remains in me...

Deep down I hope that we did just that. That we work out our differences in order to find our way back home.  
All I ask for now is to part in peace.”

Oh don’t you see. You are asking for something that we did already. We burried our feud when you safed my life. Maybe even before.  
Equals or nothing remember?

“In the end, you have been a half-decent companion. Joder, in another life perchance we would have worked out.  
Now it‘s too late for that.  
All there is left that I can do now is to promise you a little piece of heaven as I‘ll be waiting for you on the other side.  
We could try again. Maybe we do work out.“

Maybe...

That‘s it. I am finished and I dearly hope that the time for understanding will find you rather sooner than later.

But first of all, are you going to flee in the helicopter and leave me behind.

That’s what you will do.  
You’re more predictable than you think, Rubita. I don’t judge you for that. It’s just how it is. It is what’s right.

Quite, some people from the past told me that I lost my sense of telling when I have lost a battle. That was never true. I might have lost the one or the other fight I admit but I always, always had the upper hand.  
Now, I reached a point in life to call for peace. I know when I have lost a battle. An this is not losing. It‘s makeing a deal. 

Everyone deserves a second chance in life. And despite the fact that you will sell me to the police I’ll give you a third chance in life. Because you deserve to get away. You deserve it so fucking much.” 

I didn’t. I never asked for this. I never asked you to give away your second chance. I didn’t deserve it after what I did to you. She felt guiltier than ever before. 

“Raise this child and be the mother I never had the chance to be because life took that away from me.

All I ever wanted was a normal life in freedom. But appereantly, that was too much to ask for too.”

She was nothing, she had nothing but even nothingness has it‘s borders.  
I found yours.  
Mortility. Humanity.

Macarena couldn’t take it much longer. The rain now sounding somewhat melancholic. The windows darker, almost black, were covered with fog because of the heat in the caravan and the cold weather outside.  
Maca got rid of her jacket. Took a deep breath, uncecessfully tried to wipe away her tears and went on. 

“You see, all my life, I have been so afraid of loseing my loved ones, that I refused to love anything at all. 

In an attempt to keep me safe. I locked it all away and threw away the keys. 

Never to be found again.  
It was never recovered.  
And I was never able to love again. Not like I used to.  
It was impossible.  
But I liked you profoundly.

And yes maybe people change. Maybe love makes a person change in a matter of weeks. How ought I know for sure? But despair. Black despair changes you in the mere blink of the eye.

Life put me infront of a last lesson, eventually. And I had to choose. Give or take.”

The rain started to become sinister again as the wind got stronger. Knocking on the window, eager to invade her space. Thunder struck time and time again. Similiar to the following words that hit her heart in the same manner.

“Accepting your fate in general is hard. It got harder when you said you wanted to return to a normal life. 

As it meant loseing the only person I had wanted to spend my life with. Voluntarily and without gaining anything from it. I wanted to spend my remaining months with you Maca.

But it gets even harder when you have to say goodbye to a person you lived in. Someone you found yourself a home in.  
Because that’s what you were to me. Rubia. 

Home.”

Home. Maca repeated stunned. Not any home but her home.

“I spent my whole lifetime on the run and now I am condemned to see my future escapeing from me. 

After a lifetime lost on running, though, I was able to find my home in you. A last place to finally rest. You calmed my demons. Sparked anger because you’re dumb at times but you managed to soothe me down nontheless.

As a matter of fact I loved being with you. I loved every second I spend with your annoying stupid being. And I feel dumb for admitting it. But it’s true. Our time together brought me the lifetime of joy I had missed out on.

In the end, you even wanted to save me. I know you did, and maybe, just maybe that would have been the right thing to do. Joder Tía, perhaps life might have even had some more adventures for us in store but that was not for you to decide.”

It was not and I hate you for being right.

There were only a few more lines left now.  
The weather started to calm down at last. A slow steady ripple falling onto the sand. The lake flat again. Trees were still.  
Maca turned to grab the last page. Reading in silence.

“Rubita, it kills me to think that you might not know after all.“

Know what?

“You know, I’m not this ice cold heartless queen of hearts that people made me.“

I know you’re not.  
I know...  
She looked up outside the window to gather herself. All she saw though was her own defeated reflection. She laughed at that. How miserable. Wiped away the never stopping stream of tears and continued.

„I have feelings, so many, yet I had a hard time showing them. I decided not to let them be seen as that too meant weakness. A blind spot that people would use against me.

Look what happened the one time I let my feelings come through. It ended, like so many times before, in the death of someone dear to me.

I have nothing to loose anymore besides you. But I’m the one falling out of life.  
So I’ll confess one last time. For I have faith in you. You will find your way even without me.

You mean the world to me.  
Macarena Ferreiro.  
There you have it! I broke my own word.  
I told you again. One ultimate time.  
Cherish it, keep it close to your heart. Lock it away perpetually for you will never hear it again. This is Goodbye.“

Maca restlessly tried wipeing away her tears. Hot streams of salty tears flowed over her cheeks. No way to stop them anyhow.

„Did you know that animals gets really anxious when they fear to die? But once it is certain of it’s faith. That it can not bypass death. They become very calm? 

People associated scorpions with me so that in the end became one. I‘m like those animals right now. Very tranquil. 

I came clean with my sickness. It hurts, deeply, but as long as I’m still mostly myself, preferably without a fried brain it’s up for me to decide.  
My life and sickness belong to me until the end.

You once asked me what I was afraid of.  
I don’t recall giving you an answer did I?”

You didn’t I have an idea but you haven’t told me. No. 

“The time for telling you has come I guess.

You see death itself, the mere idea of dieing never scared me. Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. Dying is something natural. Every living organism will get to meet the Grim Reaper at some point in their life. It’s only a question of time. A matter of where and when he will strike. But that never really scared me at all because fear, being scarred of something so conventional is incredibly pointless.  
I’ve lived without fear for all my life and I will die without it. No doubt in that.

There’s something I am far more afraid of.

All my life I’ve feared life itself. Life scared the shit out of me. Because I knew what it was really like. What it meant to live and what it takes from you.“

No, maybe you were scared of something else. You feared love. You resistes love all your life as it took everything from you. Afraid that someone would start loving you for who you were. Earnestly, with all their heart. I hid the truth but deep down you knew it too. You always knew. You could read me like an open book. 

„I made my peace with it. I’m at peace right now. I am at ease.“

You‘re in denial. I am. You were.

„I don’t know what it was that you saw in me that made you stay for so long but I’m eternaly thankful for you, for staying by my side. I never got a chance to show you. Whatever, good you saw in me, remind yourself of the pain I made you suffer. Don’t forget it. Maybe that will help you to forget me. It‘s for the greater good. Only like that I can garantee you the life you always wanted. 

So please, search for me inbetween the stars when it gets hard, Macarena, but if I mean something to you at all please grand me that last wish. All I want is for you to let me go.”

She didn’t sign it. 

For a moment in time the world turned silent. No movements no noice. No more storm outside. As if someone had pressed pause.

It truely was the calm after the storm. 

Zulemas explainations and thoughts were running down her face in streams of poisonous black mascara. Angry, dark furious tears, hurt, confust. Creating a maskerade of absolute truths.

It was beyond her imagination how she was supposed to let her go so easily. Her mind was running like a steam lock.

How can I let go when you showed me the greater perhaps in life? All those possibilities that lay ahead of us...? And then when we were finally at a common point ready to explore them you left and took everything with you. How can I let you go when my daughter carries the name Maisa Noel after your daughter and the one thing you cherrished most. I could have helped you but you pushed me away. I lied to your face then left you behind. I sold you.

*I sold the love of my life. And when you sell the love of your life you‘ll realize that you‘re stuck in a puddle of mud slowly taken under sinking slowly one bit at a time* 

Tell me how do I ever let go of this? How do I get out of this riddle of guilt? Why were we so damaged and destructive. Selfish. All...

She had been flipping the sheets around and in her emotinal chaos her eyes had missed a couple more lines at the end of the page. 

Minutes past before she had gathered enough strength in order to read those final lines.

PS:  
Call this number +64 21 083 47435.  
He’ll give you the money. All of it.  
I wasn’t honest to Goya, Triana or anyone else but they’re to stupid to realise that. Not only were the diamonds I gave them fake but the real ones were worth 5 times as much as I had told them. Before they find out we’ll be long gone. Well you will be. I’ll watch over you and your gremlin from above. The sky no longer carries bars for me. I am free at last.  
You can keep as much as you want but please if this means anything at all to you send Cepo and Saray some of the money. They deserve it. It’s more than enough for all of you anyways. 

With her last wish she wanted to do good. It was too much for Maca she needed room to breath. This letter. Those words. The confessions it held. They clenched her airways shut, makeing it difficult to breathe. It had harshly wracked all the process from the past month in a matter of minutes, without remorse. She got hit at full speed. Spireling down to were it all had started. 

Maca triped over the threshold nearly falling outside into the night. She got a hold of herself before she could fall and eagerly sucked in the clear cold air, the storm had left behind. 

Finding solace in the coldness that embraced her bare skin. It made her feel alive.

She lit a cigarette. Inhaled the nicotine deeply, holding it in. Allowing it to burn her throat. When the sensation diminished she slowly let the smoke slip away into the night. Trying to keep up with the incomming realizations.

Once she had finished the cigarette she raised her right arm. Revealing angry round marks with intentions to add another one to the already impressive collection. 

A lazy look was painted on her face when she moved her hand upwarda closer to her skin to put the cigarette out on her bare forearm.  
Her vain attempt to push away the landslide of incomming thoughts.

Just don’t do something stupid. Maca.  
You‘re already at it she realized. 

As the still smoldering cigarette bud met her skin she closed her eyes. Instantly she let her head fall backwards in satisfaction. Pleasure was flowing through her body with everything that hurted her physicly. Seeking for refuge in the pain.  
This was her take at trying to cope with it. Copeing with a gapeing hole a certain someone had left behind.

Burning herself with the cigarette had become a habit she wasn’t proud of. Not only Zulema had left behind her marks on her. Everything was just too much. So she had to found herself a solution.

The constant pain she suffered hadn’t been visible by the naked eye until Maca converted them to the outside to get at least some sort of control over them from time to time. Burning was her twisted idea of solace. 

You died.  
I could have.  
I didn’t.  
But you did.  
and for what?  
The Money?  
The baby?  
Staying sane?  
You’re right some questions remain unanswered.

She thought bitterly, while letting the stubble sink deeper into her skin. It looked gruesome already. 

How does your end justify the suffering you inflict on others?! That letter had been a slap in the face. Dugging up the feelings she had so carefully burried and locked away. Suddenly she had found another option. 

In one motion and rather unsatisfied with the amount of pain, she scornfully exhaled. Bringing her head back forward and flipped the cigarette bud onto the sand and stepped back into the Caravan. 

Back inside she helped herself to a half full bottle of whisky a pencil and some paper. She had to write.

She wrote to Zulema because she wanted to believe, to understand herself and because she thought she owed it to her. An explanation of some sort.


	6. Scattered to the four winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Job 17  
> 1 My spirit is broken,(...)  
> the grave awaits me.  
> 6 “God has made me a byword to everyone,  
> a man in whose face people spit.  
> 7 My eyes have grown dim with grief;  
> my whole frame is but a shadow.  
> 11 My days have passed, my plans are shattered.  
> Yet the desires of my heart  
> 12 turn night into day;  
> in the face of the darkness light is near.  
> 13 If the only home I hope for is the grave,  
> if I spread out my bed in the realm of darkness,  
> 15 where then is my hope—  
> who can see any hope for me?
> 
> John 16:22  
> Therefore you now have sorrow. But I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter  
> You Said You’d Grow Old With Me - Michael Schulte  
> Wherever You Will Go - Charlene Soraia
> 
> If you make it through this one you’ll be rewarded with that happy ending tomorrow :)

The ballpointpen scratched franticly over the paper. Trying to keep up with Maca’s thoughts.

“I hate you! I hate you and I hate that I can’t hate you as much as I want to.  
All this time you‘ve been right. With everything you ever said. You were right. 

You made me think.  
About all these little coincidences life threw at us so our paths would eventually cross. However, insignificant they seemed to be. They were not. They drove us to a common point. They changed the course of our story.

The second that we met life went downhill. We burned down everything we touched. Hurting everyone around us but ourselfes. And when people started to ran away for their own safety, you choose to stay. You weren‘t afraid of the possibility of getting burned. And I was in it for the thrill.  
I died once and lived to feel alive again. You lived to die, unintentionally.

Falling for you was never meant to happen. How it did happen is beyond me. I‘d never thought I‘d be the one to fall for someone bad. Much less for someone as fucked up as you were. Someone who took away everything from me.  
That falling happened undesired...  
At the time I finally realized what was going on it was already to late. 

I took the confusion and buried it deep.  
I did not want it to be true at first.  
But being outside for years on my own. Gave me time to rethink. Time to accept what I wanted to forget. 

Do you know that feeling of being followed late at night? Feeling watched while you‘re walking home through a deserted alley? You just get the urge to run.  
Zule you wouldn‘t have ran away. You would have turned around and faced the problem. But I‘m not you so I started running. For years I was running but what exacly was I running from? There was no reason, only you.

In all our time together zou kept on telling your stories. I loved listening to you speak. 

All of them stories held some truths. Made up or not they hold something sacred for the narrator. For you. They were somewhat like your codex. Appereantly, I had learned it the hard way.  
One of that, that sometimes a home can be a person too. That’s what you told me and later confessed yet I never did I answer you. Deep down I hope you knew that I felt it too.  
Not like you. That was never an option. Our lifes where to different for that and I have had a home before, when you never did. I found a new one in you. A better one. Because you understood me completely. You found a first. A home.

But all of that means nothing now as I let you go. You knew I would. And so I did.  
With it I lost something never to be recovered again. It was something I needed to exist. You...

Everything you planned was for a selfish suicide mission. You stupid bitch. I have a question for you. Did I show you what you didn‘t wanna see yourself as. Did you do it because you got scarred and couldn’t take it. Or did you do it out of pity for yourself? Or did I just take part in your self destructive suicide mission as an excuse to leave this miserable life of yours behind and as a last victim of your killing spree?!

I‘m sorry. I didn‘t mean that. My words tend to hurt when I get angry and I deeply regret it. I did it back then too. You didn‘t even react anymore. I‘m sorry for hurting you time and time again. But being sorry isn‘t enough.

It’s not my place to judge your final decicion when it was me who made the last move to complete this story.  
I have no right to do that when it was me who ran away. When it was me who didn’t dare to stay by your side in your last fight. When you were bleeding out I walked away. I have no right at all to do so but I still do. I want to turn back time and do things differently to get of there together or not at all. For I want you back. I need you.

It was you who showed me how to live.  
Lastly, teaching me how to live life to the fullest. 

Life, with you felt like driving on the high way with the head lights off. Head trough the ceiling arms outstreched. You’re getting hit by the wind. The music is blasting in the background, while you are screaming in extascy. Living the moment. And life is infinite for a short moment in time just before the fatal crash.  
We crashed then fell. Because we weren’t mesnt to be. At least not in this reality. 

However the question remains the same. Why didn’t you ask for help. Why of all things did you ask for everything but help?

All that doesn‘t change anything. Does it? You left me behind angry at you with no right to be. How can I justify to be angry at you without feeling guilty about it?  
When it was you who gave me something invalueable. Something that I will never get the chance to repay you for. Something for that I‘ll perpetually be in your debt. But you left me on my own... Now tell me where am I supposed to go from here? I don’t wanna do this without you.

This is me, trying to get it right this time.  
The only thing I can do now is to try to give your lifestory what it deserves.” 

But by writing that one thing became very clear to Macarena. 

I have failed you.  
I have failed you horribly and I’m terrible sorry for that.

*“You know, I got in trouble so that they wouldn’t burn you. I made sure that you got a proper burial. Seemed to be the least I could do.”

I knew you weren’t the most religious but the things you did you somehow always interviened them with it. And when you saw your daughter behind that granit wall you said that wasn’t right so I did what I could to get you burried properly. The way you wanted.*

„I loved you with all of my heart. In secret as I didn’t want it to be true. Falling for someone so destructive but with every right to be just that. It‘s unexplainable to me, how it happened, but it did and it was the best thing that had ever happened in my monotonous life.

Neither want I to keep secrets. So this is me confessing too. Once and for all. I hope you can hear me.  
I still love you with all of me. You ran away with it. My heart. So much that for some time after you were gone I saw you wherever I went. You were a face in the crowd disappearing as soon as my eyes got a glimps of you, a blurry yellow figure in the distance, you were in in my dreams too. Every night. Sometimes I’d her you whisper. Other times I heard you hum that lulluby you so often sang. Slowly but surely I was going crazy.

I loved you and when you went away you took my sanity with you.

I could write more but this is all that matters. I love you Zulema. keep an eye out for us will you?“

The pencil dropped onto the table and she picked up the letter. Minutes passed by as she reread her letter. Calming herself and letting her body give in into the hurt that it caused. It wasn’t perfect but it held her mind. 

How did it get to...this? 

She wiped away some snot from under her nose that had started to drip because of all the crying. She laughed defeated. 

How in the world did it get like this?  
Her hand reached out for the pencil once more.  
We were the worst weren‘t we?  
In a neat font she scribbeled her signuture. 

„your Puta Rubia.“

Then she carefully placed the letter back on top of the table and reached into her pocket to get out her wallet. In it her own copy of their polaroid picture. She took it out then took it in for a few seconds, sighed and put it down next to the letter.

This is really it huh? 

Her eyes wandered around the insides of the caravan for a last time. Then walked around. Her hand touched everything she possibly could. With every touch she triggered a memory. 

Her fingers touched the slit just above where she had been sitting a couple minutes ago. 

That bitch threw a big ass knife into the wall. Only missing my head by a few centimeters when I asked her to “please pass me a knife” to cut the veggies. If she wanted to she had hit my head. But she didn’t. She was playing with me. And I loved it.

With every touch her smile grew a bit.  
What a fucked up couple they were.

Continueing her way she wenr over to the seating area between the table and the kitchen. Touching the cushions. 

Here she took my offer and took the drugs.

A dirty smirk appeared on her face.

And here...

Her fingers lowly and barely touching the surface followed the kitchen counter...

...here the fun began.

Fingers followed the path they had taken that night. Ending on the edge of their bed.

Here we crosse the line. Or so we made ourselves believe. To be honest we started crossing it way before. 

She lowered herself down onto the bed. Looking around for a definate time. 

Everything stays in place, every holiday and Birthday, Christmas and what not will come around year after year. But life doesn’t stop, for no one. The world will keep on spinning only you won’t be there to celebrate them with me anymore.

No more secrets.  
We can stop playing.  
Stop pretending.  
You’re gone. 

What we had was distorted.  
We didn’t want it to be true.  
But It was very real.  
Thus It can not be non existent as we pretended to.  
Minus and plus equals plus. Basic maths.  
Bad and good are only a construct  
there is no equalation to explain it.  
Good and bad, they go hand in hand  
one can not live without the other.  
We could not either.

This is a place.  
We made it.  
A house.  
A home.  
You.  
It exists and so did we. We went hand in hand.  
-

25 new messages from Saray. And a couple missed calls.

Instead of readinf Sarays messaged one by one she ignored them completely and texted her directly.

I’m at the Caravan. Can you come and pick me up? An please bring some gasoline.

An hour had passed before she heared a car approching. She’d used the time emptying the whiskey bottle. So that now when the headlights finally appeared behind the treeline they were blurry, blinding her.  
Instinctively Macarena held up her arm to cover her eyes. Wonk swaying her way towards Saray who stepped out of the car. She was furious with her.

“MACARENA WHAT THE FUCK!”

“It fine. I’m fine.” she slurred holding up both hands trying to calm the other woman down. “Please don’t yell at me.” A headache was already formed in the front of her head. “Did you bring the gasoline?” 

“Care to explain yourself?”

She didn’t. 

“Just give me the gasoline.”, she didn’t wanna fight. All she wanted was closure.

“NO!”

“Fine then!” she stumbled even though she stood “still” “I’m getting it myself!”

Macarena stumbled her way over to the car. Rummaged through the cars trunk and eventually found what she was looking for.  
While she was passing by Saray she harshly pushed Zulemas letter into her chest. 

“Your explaination.” Maca said matter of factly. Hitting Saray with a wave of alcohol breath. 

“You’re drunk.”, she grimaced as she stated the obvious.

“I don’t care. Read it!”

Saray unfolded the pages. Already, haveing an idea what it was all about. 

Leaning against the hood of her car, legs crossed she began to read.  
“Rubia.” She stopped immediately after the first word.  
This was adressed at Maca.  
She’d been right.  
She wouldn’t dare reading it though. Something so personal.  
And surely not when it was written by her best friend filled with her heart, confessions and what not.  
Saray didn’t dare and less did she care. This was between the two of them.  
She would be present but that was it. She wouldn’t interfere.

Zule had called her a few weeks before her death to enlightened her about what was going on and what was yet about to happen.  
They had their time for goodbyes. She was fine for now. And now it was Maca’s turn. Zule had predicted this. Even though it had taken Maca longer than anticipated but she was here now. Zulema had asked her to be there for her, for her Puta Rubia, no matter what dumb shit she came up with. And if it was burning down their home, so be it. Saray was there. Watching over Macarena. It was the least she could do.

Sometimes pretending to be strong for others is the relinquishment of your own sanity. you’re doomed to listen to them, while trying to survive yourself. It’s the ultimate sacrafice. The loss of a friend took a toll on Saray aswell. Thisbwasn’tbeasy for her either but she’d made a promise. 

“When I go don’t cry. Dance and sing. Will you do that for me?”  
That’s what she did, now she had to be strong for Maca. She has no one left besides her daughter and a child that age shouldn’t go through something like that.

So now it was Saray watcheing Macas every move. She could barely walk in a straight line. It was a miracal that the blond haden’t passed out yet. Clumbsy, she managed to drown the caravan in gasoline.

Maca got more rageous with every drop of gasoline. Ignited a fire within herself drop by drop. Her mind running fast.  
Evil exists and now it was Maca.  
You could have told me lies. Told me how this was all a hoax intended to ruin my life. To make it easier to hate you. To give me a reason to forget and to be unfaithful with you.

Stepping back, reaching into her pocket she got out a lighter to lit up a cigarette. For the second time that night she inhaled the smoke. Feeling it poisoning her lungs. There was a time when she smoked to relax. Tonight, she smoked to die. One inhale at a time.

You didn’t. Instead you gave me your sweet explanaitions and what could have beens. So I’ll burn this to the ground with the persuation that this will be a definite goodbye. Because I know it’s over. I can’t have you back. But where do I go from here? Anywhere at all we are not compelled to do anything. Maybe I just stay here with the ghost of you.

Maca snipped her half smoked cigarette onto the gasoline puddle near her feet.  
Deciding, against burning herself. There had been enough suffering tonight.  
The cigarette hit the gasoline puddle . Instantly lighting it up. The fire creeping its way into the Caravan. Drowning it in flames.

This night would last forever.  
We‘ll always dwell on that night.

Saray had been watching everything from a distant. The fire now brightly lightning up the darkend night, flames cunningly reflecting in her own eyes. Creeping into her. Recalling her past. A past she had left behind already. Now it was Macas time.

You will get there eventually hermana.

Some minutes pass, Maca didn’t move a muscle, Saray got cold so she decided to get in the car to warm up.  
She would wait for her, no matter how much time she needed.

After a while, not more that twenty minutes, Maca sat down on the beach. Her back faceing the water. The darkness lingering dangerously behind her back. Calm, black, insidious just waiting to attack.  
Her eyes were fixed on the flames. She to was set back ten years ago to a memorable night. 

They’d started a Riot and hell had broken lose. That night could have been Maca’s chance to be free. But when she was almost outside prison walls she turned around. Gun in her hand she had decided to joined forces with Zulema. She choose to stay.  
The same night, out of mercy, they had granted a friend her last wish.  
They killed twice that night. Once for mercy, once for juctice. They were in the right yet inevetably, their actions had consequences.  
They had killed but for what cost? Loseing a bit humanity? Loseing their chance in life? It didn’t really matter. 

All inmates ended up, in the prison yard, burning a fellow prisoner. It had been a peaceful farewell.  
Prison guards and special forces had found them at some point. Not expecting what they encountered. A peaceful gathering around the fire. Humans paying tribute to a fallen sister. 

That night the same orange light had filled Macas eyes, keeping her warm. Encouraging her. She had been sitting in the front row. Sourrounded by her closest friends. On her back she could feel a pair of familiar eyes. Watching her from afar. She wouldn’t have had to turn around as she new whom they belonged to. Yet she couldn’t resist. When she turned her head around she found exacly what she expected. Zulemas green eyes starring back at her. She’d been watching. The scorpions eyes tinted in a green so darker Maca had never seen before. It was not furious like they usually were. But rather calm. Sad even. Their eyes locked and a slight smile ran over the scorpions face, sending out a genuine thank you. Filled with much needed courage adressed to her. It was what she needed but gone as soon as it appeared. 

Lost in those memories, mentally absent, Maca turned her head around in that same manner. Mimicking that night, with forlorn hope searching for two familiar green eyes to give her that courage once more. A pair of eyes that had ceased to exist.

This time she was on her own. No one would send her a small heartening smile. Reassuring her. Giving her hope for what was yet to be written.

Playing with fire is a dangerous game. Where do we go from here, now that we’ve lost? She thought defeated.

As the flames began to die down, allowing the cold to return Maca found herself seated next to Saray.

Both of them were sitting in the car next to each other. Heater on. Their eyes following the smoke go up in the sky.  
Fire’s end. The remaining structure of a burned down object is fragile. It most likely will crumble away by a slight featherly breez. But for now the ashes were lying still on the floor where the Caravan had once stood in front of them. 

This story has an end too. And it will soon be scattered to the four wind aswell as the ashes if their past.  
Both of them stayed silent not a single word was leaving their minds aloud.

Saray was the first to break the silence.  
„You know you’re not invincible right?“,She said when Maca wanted to drive on her own. Away from her. From reality. Disassociateing with everything she still had some power over. Attempting to take control, she not had. 

Suddenly Maca was already, halfway out of the car again, Saray leaned over to her side for Maca to hear her better.

„You‘re out of your mind. You, driving while being drunk is the last of my worries at the moment. I have your keys anyway. You’d have to walkback home. Now whatever you wanna do right know. Forget it and get your ass back in my car.“  
Maca eventually obeyed. She sat back down next to Saray that however did not mean that she was fine to leave with her. They remained in place. Neither one was about to be moving a muscle for hours to come, after that.

It was obvious that Maca was struggeling. Saray just hoped that she wouldn’t bury everything inside like Zule did. Maca had condemed Zulema for not talking but she was caughted up in doing the same thing right now.

Sooner than later it will destroy you. She thought. Looking at the others sideprofile. With a concerned look.

While giving her time, she saw her fall apart all over again. They weren’t best friends or anything but after their starting difficulties they learned to trust one another. Now seeing her companion like this hurt her. But there was nothing in her power that she could do if Maca would not open up to her on her own account.

On the other hand they‘d been there for hours without end. The sun was already riseing. And Saray was slowly looseing her patience. She wanted to give her all the time in the world but that was impossible. Both of them had a responsibility awaiting at home. Their families. 

„You ready?“‘ Saray asked carefully, more rethorical than anything, as she obviously wasn’t. 

There were things she wanted to say hidden in those two words.  
Don’t you know? I miss her too!  
But I’m here for you. If you talk I can help.

Maca ignored her. Stubbornly starring ahead. Eyes glassy and empty, focussing on the black stain, that was once her home. Her expression was blank.  
She was a ghost herself now.

„No.“, She whispered. It was all she could bring forward before tears were welling up again.

why is this so fucking hard? 

„You will be.“ Saray said. Doubting her words as soon as they‘d left her mouth. But it’s what people say. Never the truth always a vain try to provide some sort of hope.

What she meant to say was:  
“You might never will be. Time doesn‘t heal all wounds. You just learn to live with them. They will haunt you for the rest of your life. Shadow over you ready to strike, when you‘re beat up again.”  
Instead she said matter of factly.  
„I didn‘t read it.“  
It would have been wrong.

Maca stayed silent. She couldn‘t care less. She kept on looking at the black stain. What had she done?

“She left us money. Me. But she wants you to have some of it too. She gave Goya and the others fake diamonds.”, a sad smile appeared.

“Hija de puta.” Saray smiled. They deserved it. After all, they fucked up the perfect heist and after the trouble they brought to her two friends... Her elf from hell did the right thing.

“How are you?”, she ignored the money aspect asking her another rethorical question. Of course she felt like shit. But Saray wasn’t out for the money at all. She had her family and a job. They were happy. The only reason why she was there in that moment with Maca was because she had given Zulema her word. The money didn’t matter at all.

“I’m not okay.”, she muttered resigned. 

“I know.”

Saray turned on the radio.

what she meant was something different.  
I want to get to know you. The real you. The one Zulema saw in you.

Music interrupted their silence. 

🎶So lately, been wondering  
Who will be there to take my place  
When I'm gone you'll need love to light the shadows on your face.🎶

Maisa. Maca thought. Maisa took your place. She‘s wicked. She fills me with joy up to the brim. Some days I feel like I’ll burst of joy. On others, when she reminds me of you I fear to combust with sorrow.  
You impacted her even before she was born. You poisoned everything you touched. She was born with your poison inside. She‘ll do fine in life. Thanks to you.

„Gracias.“, Maca whispered.

„Que?“, Saray did not properly get her words.

„Nothing.“, and with that she opened the rare door of the car. Stepped outsideand was greeted by the red light of the upcoming sun and the chirping of birds.  
Sarays “Where are you going?” was drowned out by Maca slamming the door shut behind her. 

First she slammed the door, then she grabbed the whiskey bottle she had thrown on the ground hours before. Determinded she made her way over to the black stain. Once she reached her destination she crouched down. Fiddled a bit with the lid of the bottle and once it was open, she scooped as much of the ashes into the bottle as possibly fit in there. Screwed the lid back onto the bottle stood up and knocking of the black ashed on ger pants. Satisfied with her work she returned to the Car.

For dear she was holding on to the bottle.  
Truth is I will never under any circumstance let you rest. You made me. You’re part of me. Forever

*From now on your fates are intervined you are Identical twins. What happenes to one happens to the other.*

Altagracias words echoed through Macas head. It was true a part of her got lost on the way. Now she was missing something. Her twin.

„Lets go.“  
Zule, I‘ll bring you home, at last. 

That was Sarays cue. She started the cars engine and turned the car around. Following the graveled road, ahead of them. It’s leading up to the main street. Finally guideing them into a new tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m always happy to read your comments:)  
> Thanks to all of you for reading this story❤️
> 
> What did you think about the songs? Do they fit?


	7. Zulema Zahir and her legacy of love and kindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With that title in mind lets quote Winnie the Pooh. “How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard”  
> It might not be perfect but Maca did find her closure in the end. And I don’t know where exacly, but I read this somewhere aswell...  
> “Life is no fairytale but you can still have an happy ending.“ So here you go. Enjoy this last one.🥺❤️
> 
> The songs for this chapter  
> Time of our lifes - Tyron Wells  
> Supernova - Kat Cunning

9 years later.  
____________________________________

It was christmas day. 9 years had gone by in which Maca had found back onto the right path. No criminal actions whatsoever had been made since she burned down their trailer. Sometimes her fingers itched and she dearly wanted to plan something but she was determined to stay away from bad. Soon her daughter would turn 10, and it was her responsibility to raise her. So she stayed away from everything that could possibly impact their lives negatively. It should stay that way. Nothing and no one would take that life away from her now. So she remained under the radar. 

It was a nice winter day. People were happy. Everywhere outside Carol of the bells filled the people with christmas spirits, Kids were playing in the snow. Building a snowmans or having a snowball fight. Over all the christmas spirit was at high. 

Maca and Maisa were decorateing their little appartment. It wasn‘t much but the both of them had plenty of room and it was pretty cozy. 

Currently Maca was hanging up some fairy lights. The ones that change color. It was her thing. A silent memoir to her friend. When she heard excited squeels from the living room.

“Mom, Mom” the little one called. Her stomping little feet announcing her running over before Maca could even see her. „No running when you have stuff in your hands!” Maca censured her daughter with a smile. But the second her eyes fell upon the book she was holding. She stopped. And her daughter ignored her mother completely. Instead she was holding up a picture book quite literally shoving it right under äher nose. It was the book in which she had put the polaroids, cut out newspaper articles and the letter. “What is this?” The little ones big eyes sparked with curiosity.

“This Cariño” Macarena, who had returned to her work stopped what she was doing and stepped down the stool she’d been standing on, in order to take the Book from her daughters hands. 

With a teethy smile she answered „This is the story of my life.” Her eyes never faltering. She was proudly looking at it. Without much sadness. “It’s the story about an very important person in my life to be precisely.” Only then did her eyes raised to meet her daughter’s. Haughtily, she continued, the smile never fadeing. “And the reason you carry that beautiful name of yours.” her hand patted Maisas head before she walked towards the couch into the livingroom. Sure of one thing. She didn‘t need to look back to know. Her daughter followed her religiously.

„Come here.“, she said anyway because it was important for her to show the love she held within. She herself learned it to late. To cherrishing the subtle moves of loved ones. This too was her attempt to make the past right.

Welcomely she patted the seat next to her on the sofa. „It‘s time for you to get to know your auntie.“

There was no need to tell her daughter twice. In a matter of seconds Maisa had jumped onto the couch next to her.  
This kid was so eager to find out everything she could. About anything there was. Always snoepeing around, sticking her nose into things that weren’t her business, always planing her next adventure.And to be honest Maca was surprised that she hadn‘t find the book earlier. 

Thinking about it Maisa had broken a couple of rules already that day. Yet this time Maca decided against putting her kid into the right place. It was christmas day after all. Today should be a day to celebrate. Even the legacy of a fallen one. From this christmas on she decided, she would tell her own christmal tales. So she started her own tradition, beginning withe the story of her life with Zulema.

„There was a time. A long time ago. Before you were born yet, when your mom was not as boring as she is now.“ Maisa escaped a giggle. „That’s how you would describe it no, Squirell?“ A still snickering child looked up to her mom. „Yea I would!“

She continued to tell her the story of her life. About the heists and their time back in Prison. About her parents and friends back then. And of course everything she knew about Zulema. Together they spend their day on the couch, occupied by the stories Maca told. She was holding her daughter as tight as humanly possible on her lap. Maisa attentivly listening to her mother‘s story. Occasionaly asking questions and following the pictures not to miss something important. 

Maca let out the parts where they tried to kill each other and the pain they forced on each other because those didn’t matter no more. They obviously weren’t made for children ears either but the point is, that she forgave her other half for those things a long time ago. Zuelma had good in her and that was how Maisa ought get to know her for.

Zulema had given her something invaluable. Her daughter.  
She wasn‘t able to be mad at her for things that seemed to far away nowerdays. Sure, she had lost a lot because of her and Maisa had no grandparents for exactly that reason. But she had learned to live with those wounds. Zulema had given up her life for her chance to get a new one. Something unrepayable without doubt. And cancer or not she choose to do good in her last moments. And that‘s how she‘s ought to be remembered. It‘s her legacy.

“Why is it that you can not see what someone did or who they really were?” Maisa asked suddenly looking at their polaroid.

“I don’t know.” Macarena was a bit surprised by such a question. But answer honestly lost in her own thoughts. „You can always guess but you‘ll never know for sure kf you don‘t have the guts to.....Is it important?”

“I think so.” the child mumbled pondering.

“Well I don‘t, so honey. Look at me.“  
Maisa stopped flipping through the pictures. To look at her mom.

„I turned out fine didn’t I?“

„You’re a criminal.“ she grimaced with a judgeing look on her face.

A sight escaped Maca.

„Ex-criminal. But you‘re right.“ God this kid is a piece of work. she thought.

„But what do you see when you look at me?“

„My mom.“

„And am I bad?“

„No.“ She said with a smile yet squinting her eyes and sucking her teeth thinking *this is a trap* „You‘re my mom.“ She said considerabely after a minute. Then a pause. „And I never thought of you as a bad person.“

„See Squirill, some parts are meant to be stocked away. They are not important. What counts is the first impression. Not the looks...But rather the charisma. So look again. What do you see.“

„Two happy people.“ 

„That‘s right and that is exacl....„

„And we have LoAdS of money“, Maisa interrupted Macas incoming monologe blasé. „because of what you did. Like Loaaaads of moneY.“ She giiggled, emphezising the vaguely guessed quantity of their heists loads . „You’re a bad ass mom. But you look boring.“

„Honey.“, at times Maca was overstrained by her daughter.

This wasn‘t going into the direction she had in mind. She didn’t want her to see criminal behaviour as cool or positiv. It wasn‘t. 

Just out for the money. Unbelievable. If the worst you turn out to be is a fraud I managed to do just fine in the parenting department. Maca thought.

While thinking about wether or not she should hold a speech about how money isn‘t everything and Criminal behaviour is to be punished she quickly, after some contemplateing of the situation came to the concluesion that, with her past it wasn‘t really her place to do that.

*Zule showed her how to cherrish the little things. And she does. They live in a quite small apartment right now, but her daughter just didn‘t quite yet fathom why they didn‘t put the money they owned to use.*

„Sometimes life just ...happens. People change.“

„You did for sure. You got boring.“

„Hey!“

„Sorry.“ Two guilty eyes turned into her direction. 

„You‘re not boring...“ A dirty smirk appeared. 

„Not all the time, at least“ 

They laughed together.

„Look, what I meant is. There is a certain evolution in each person. You grow. Get wiser.“

„But you were in your fourties mom!“ Her daughter interrupted unchanantly. „You just turned I don’t know. Turned ancient.“

„Well you never stop learning. I guess.  
You are never the same at two points in your life. You change. Evolve. You get to improve. Even when you turn “ancient”. The last part more adressed at herself than to her daughter. Was she really that boring and old?

“Where is she now?” Maisa asked out of the blue examining a picture of Zulema.

“Who?” Maca asked baffled.

“Suleima?“ she stated dryly, weirdly pronouncing her name while pointing at the portrait of the woman. „You told me all these amazing stories about her but never said why you two don’t hang out anymore. If life was so good with her when you were together doing your thing why leave that life behind?”

“She...” Macarena searched for words. For an explnaition she didn’t have. Why did she leave her criminal past? Zulema died, and she had to take responsibility for her daughter once she was born sure, but she was smart. She could have figured something out. To keep both. Her daughter aswell as her criminal life. She would have survived. But now she was stuck in this ordinary life on her own. Well not completely alone. She had her daughter but....there was no but Maca found. She lost her old life when she made the decision to set foot into the helicopter. She could have stayed. Taken revenge or whatever but she walked away choosing this common life. The life Zulema made possible for them. Yet her mind deceived her.

Because I failed her terribly  
It was the truth. Nothing but the ugly truth. She wanted to let it out, but gulped those words away. Guilty.  
Instead she said. 

“She got lost on the way.” with a sad undertone.

“She never really left through.” Maca continued unsure of why she wasn’t telling her the entire truth. Let alone what she wanted to tell her at all. Maybe I didn‘t manage to move on after all. „and you were born“ she rumbled on.

„Zulema is still on this journey with us.“ She paused. Thinking hardly. Then added „yet, not there after all. You never got to meet your aunt but you know her. Deep down you know her. You’re more like her than you know, actually.” That was it. She wouldn‘t let anything else out about this. Not today. It was christmas.

“ I don’t understand you Mom, you’re weird and talk in riddles all the time. You‘re a fool for not telling me the reason straight away.”

That made her laught out loud. Her little monkey was smarter that she thought. 

„Well find out for yourself then.“ Maca challanged her. Knowing very well that sooner or later the time would come wher she had to tell her nothing but the truth. She would tell her the whole story when she’d be old enough but until then it would be at least 9 more years.

Maisa was struggeling what to make out of that. Quickly, changing the subject as she didn‘t want to talk about something she had no control over.

„I like her tattoo“, she pointed at the black line right under Zulemas left eye. Following it’s slightly wonky line with her index finger.

„What is it?“

„ A teardrop.“

„Qué?“

„A teardrop.“ She repeated. „You‘re aunty got it for someone very special.“

„For you?“

„No. Not for me. She lost someone dear to her. Someone more important than I could have ever been.“

„who?“

Maca didn‘t answer. This was no subject such a small person ought to deal with. So she kept silent.

Her daughter understood. And moved on with another question.  
„Then what does it mean?“

Kids and their questions.  
She could tell her that at least.

„I always found myself to believe that it resembled still remembrance but more so strength.“

Macas hands wrapped around Maisa‘s shoulders to turn her around softly. Then she placed her right hand on the right side of the girls chest. She’d been born special. Because of a defeact her heart turned out to be a mirror image situated on the right side in her chest.  
Maca let her hand rest over her little ones heart. A steady heartbeat fullfilling her body with warmth.  
Her eyes lifted up to gaze into her daughter‘s. A fierce green greeted her.  
A perfect mirror image of Zule’s eyes. 

Oh. How much she had loved them. 

She put her right indexfinger under her daughters left eye. 

„I have faith in that the tears we shed, the pain we suffer.“ 

She slowly let her index finger trace it’s way down towards it‘s destination. Mimicking Zulemas tear tattoo.

„It will fall right into our heart.“

She stopped, then tapped her finger onto her heart.

„Filling it up.“ She smiled bright. But it doesn’t drown us. Instead it’s makeing us stronger. So we can return with more fortiude.“ She let her hand rest over her heart once again. Protectively.

„Someone once told me that we should be careful not to shed to many tears as you can cry them all away. So see the positive in things Cariño vale? Promise me that you never ever let someone change the way you feel so deeply. It would be sad to loose something so precious.“

I know someone who did. They tattooed a tear when there were none more left to shed. If the first tear leals from the left eye you cry from sadness. The right side resemles joy. She never came to tell her daughter that as she intereupted her train of thoughts.

„Mom, you‘re doing it again?!“ Maisa said annoyed. „But the tattoo is still bad ass.“

„Mouth!“

„Sorry. It’s really freaking cool.“

Maca‘s eyebrow raised doubting the improvement. 

„She would have liked you, you know.“

Maisa raised an eyebrow in return, obviously questioning her mothers words. She wanted to say something smart again but when she saw her mothers eyes glistening on the verge of shedding tears she decided not to. Instead she walked over to the radio and turned it on.

It was one of the few interior pieces she had kept from the Caravan.

Once Maisa had found a station she liked she started danceing. 

Driving home for christmas was playing.

🎶I'm driving home for Christmas, yea  
Well I'm moving down that line  
And it's been so long  
But I will be there🎶

Maca observed her every movement. Blinking her tears away rapitly because she was laughing to much. She was giggeling non stop as Maisa wasn‘t really danceing. She was jumping around uncontrolably throwing her arms in every direction. Another whole hearty laugh escaped her.

You really are the incarnation of that puto elfo. Not so much the infierno part tho. How did that happen? 

She wondered then shoke her head laughing. 

With a smirk painted on her face she walked up to her daughter and took her into her arms. A tight embrace. Her shin resting on her daughters head. Not dareing to let her go any time soon. This time her hug was returned. Honest small arms were returning her gesture. Hugging her tightly around her waist.  
She was tall for her age. 

You might have gotten Zulema’s attitude, however that had happened is a mystery.  
But your heart is in the right place. You got my way of loving.  
And that was enough.  
She was okay with that.

It had become dark outside already and as she stood there with her daughter she dared to glance out of the window. *search for me inbetween the stars when it gets hard.* Times were not hard at the moment. Yet in that moment she felt closer to her scorpion. „Thank you.“ it escaped Maca in a breathed whisper.

Her daughter looked up to her.  
„I love you too mom“  
she caresst her face.  
„I love you cariño.“  
I‘ll never stop loving you 

The song ended. Another one following in its wake. A familiar song.

🎶And maybe, I'll find out  
A way to make it back someday  
To watch you, to guide you through🎶

„Will you let me go?“ A small voice muffeled into her chest?

Never. I made that mistake once.

Maca let her loose. Taking her hands into her own immediately. Afraid to lose her for a second if she wasn‘t fast enough.  
„Mirame. I’ll show you how to dance properly.“

Hesitently, Maisa obeyed. Not enjoying it at all but when she saw thw look on her mothers face. How happy it made her mom. She played along. And that was the only important thing for her. One of her reasons why. 

🎶Way up high or down low, I'll go wherever you will go  
Run away with my heart”🎶

You grabed my heart and ran away. Please don’t break it. But you sliped and it slided through your hands. It shattered into a million pieces when you decided that your time had come.

“Run away with my hope  
Run away with my love🎶

They were slowly danceing. Outside the snow kept falling, thick beautiful soothing snowflakes falling onto the ground. One star brighter than all the others. Probably a trick of her mind. But in her eyes a special someone was looking over them just now. The snow was covering everything in a protective fluffly white. And the world was at peace. 

The lyrics spoke to her. She got set back 9 years ago when she burned down her past. Sitting in the car with Saray. Reading the letter.  
Zulema was right after all. Like always. You can‘t burn something down that never existed in the first place. And yet here she was. Their little play pretend confusing her for eternity. There but not there.

Love is two faced .  
A vicious thing. It either lets you exist in happines forever in a perfect love blinded world or it takes you down with it. Heartbreak crumbeling you down one piece at a time.

She thought.

You ran away with my heart and my hope. You didn‘t take my love. Not all of it. 

She looked down at Maisa who was watching her. 

You showed me what love really is even through you were afraid of it. 

There is only one love, stronger than loving your life, one thing stronger than your survival instinct. Maternal love. It took everything from you. But it gave everything to me. I couldn‘t do it. I couldn‘t leave her alone. Because of you I had to accept just that you always were one step ahead of me. 

Maca also always believed that she was a closed off book hard to read. Invincible, but Maisa, as Zulema could always look right through her facade. They read her with ease. And even through she was only 9 years old she understood. More than she let show. She understood that Zulema and Maca had her roots somewhere set somewhere more complex. There was more to it than her mom had told her. However, she trusted her mom. If she didn’t want to tell her right now the right time would eventually come. At some point she would tell her. 

„What is it?“ she asked anyways. Looking into her mothers eyes concerned, not really expacting an answer. But wanting to help nontheless.

„Nothing.“ Maca whispered lost in thoughts. Takeing her in for another hug. Never letting her go. Silently paying tribute to Zulema. I feel you, even through your not at my side.

„We should do something special today don‘t you think?“ she finally said after minutes had past.

Because the things that we don‘t see are closer to us than we think. I feel you closer today than I have in years. That‘s why we‘ll go.

„I think it’s about time for you to met your other aunties. What do you think?“

They looked at each other.  
Music was playing. 

🎶I try to run, try to run  
But I come back again  
I look in your eyes, don't have a choice  
You'll be the death of me  
But there's nowhere that I'd rather be🎶

„I‘d like that.“

And so they made their way towards a special someones house for christmas eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so that was it. I think this was an happy ending but I don‘t know about you guys?
> 
> Anyways Winnie the pooh also said “How do you write love?“ Piglet: “You don’t you feel it.”  
> So don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Love the way you want to. Go against the norm if you want. But don’t ever be afraid to love. Love, just like life is an adventure to be explore so now it’s your turn. Go on and see the world my dears.
> 
> Fun fact at the end of the stroy:  
> I wrote this whole fic in one night while being drunk😂

**Author's Note:**

> Say Hi on Twitter if you want @ T_o_j_a


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